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The stairs up the hotel were narrow and creaky. Dirac shuddered - they made his leather Oxford shoes emit sounds that made his teeth grind. It was uncomfortable, but he would need to get used to labouring himself up and down those stairs once, or perhaps multiple times, a day. At least most days, he wouldn’t have his heavy suitcase trundling along with him. He was caught in a daydream. He didn’t realise how slowly he was walking. He never did, really. He was always the slowest walker, the slowest runner, and no matter how many times the boys at his junior school would ridicule him for it, that never really changed.
“Dirac, can you speed up a little? I want to make it to our room in time so we don’t miss dinner,” Heisenberg chuckled. Dirac knew he meant it in a lighthearted way, he always did, but he couldn’t help but hurt. He wished he was faster. His legs worked against him. The way that his brain worked faster than his mouth, it worked faster than his legs as well. So. Much. Faster. How he wished he was different. Like Werner, he thought. Heisenberg was chipper. He knew what to say, what to do in every situation. He, and others, seemed to have a social radar inside them that Paul didn’t. And it hurt him far, far more than he let on. He continued to trod up the stairs. They were long, the shape reminded Dirac of a fibonacci sequence. He told Heisenberg as such. He simply sighed, shaking his head in amusement.
“If I say I agree, will you walk faster?”
Dirac sighed and counted every step up to pass the time.
~~~~~
“Reception said they’re all booked up and will for a few weeks,”
Fuck. Dirac was close to tears at this point. They had opened their bedroom door to reveal a single double bed that wasn’t even that big. Heisenberg had protested, got defensive, yelling that he could have sworn he asked for two separate beds. All that was futile now, he supposed. They had to make do. Paul had never shared a bed with anyone - he supposed it made him feel a little inferior. Knowing Heisenberg, he probably had. He thought that any woman would be lucky to share a bed with him. He was intelligent, confident and attractive; a lethal combination in Dirac’s eyes. Perhaps he was intelligent, yes but the strength of his physical appearance was something to be debated upon and he was anything but confident.
“Guess we’ll have to make the best of it,” Werner shrugged, putting his suitcase on the bed and beginning to unzip it.
“We will keep this clandestine, right?” Paul asked nervously. Heisenberg nodded reassuringly.
Dirac felt an intense pang of anxiety at the thought of sleeping with Heisenberg. Suddenly, he felt the pressure to be somebody he knew he wasn’t. He had been fine on the journey there, something he never expected. Why did a long, draining boat ride to Japan not bother him besides a little seasickness but the thought of sharing a bed with his closest confidant did? They were comfortable with each other. So comfortable. So what difference did sharing a bed make? Dirac sighed, following suit with Heisenberg and beginning to unpack his suitcase. He tried to let go of the anxiety that seemed to be slowly constricting him for no apparent reason. He realized he wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with Heisenberg. This did not ease him, however. Moreso, he was confused. Why then did he feel this way? He tried to eliminate possible reasons in his head. He didn’t dislike Heisenberg - far from it. He was perfectly comfortable talking to Heisenberg. Happy even. And he wasn’t happy talking with most other people. Did he have an underlying mental problem? Was he afraid? Could he-
“Dirac!”
Paul jolted up. Heisenberg’s bright, jovial eyes were staring at him. He didn’t know why but it didn’t bother him as much as looking into most people’s eyes did.
“Thinking about sleeping with me?” Heisenberg smirked. Dirac did not say but he could feel his cheeks reddening. He was not supposed to feel this way.
“It’s okay. I was joking,”
Like that made Paul feel any better.
“When is dinner?” Paul asked, briskly changing the subject.
Heisenberg was confused. Paul never really acknowledged food, or asked for it. He brushed it off, checking the rectangular wall clock hung up at the centre of their room.
“Oh, it started half an hour ago. We can go anytime within the next three hours. Are you hungry?” Heisenberg interrogated.
“I suppose,” Dirac replied, sounding oddly stiffer than usual. Heisenberg worried - he hoped Dirac would be okay here.
~~~~~
The night air was stuffy. The hotel needed to invest in better fans. Dirac could almost feel Heisenberg’s body to his right, even though they were apart. He turned to the other side of the bed - looking at Heisenberg’s sleeping body made him feel strange. Sad, perhaps. He did not want to dwell on feelings he could not understand so he tried to let go and fall asleep. He fell into a sleep so light and lucid that, for 45 minutes he felt as if he did not exist.
Later, he was awoken by something unforeseen. Perhaps it was fate, silly as that sounds. He had completely forgotten where he was. He did not do well in new places. He realised he had tossed over in his sleep and was now facing Heisenberg. He yelped, and tears pricked his eyes. The room was darker than his one at home, so he couldn’t even see where he was until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. His body was sweating bullets. His hair was itchy. He was too aware of his body - not aware enough of his surroundings. Heisenberg woke up beside him. Without thinking it over, he put an arm on Dirac. Paul moved back in fear.
“Okay, Dirac, okay. I’m going to turn on the light, alright?” Heisenberg asked tentatively. Paul just nodded. Heisenberg switched the light on and Paul’s eyes grew accustomed to the darkness as he blinked back tears.
“I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t know where I was,” Paul stammered.
“Shh. It’s okay. It’s all good, Paul. You’re doing so good,” Heisenberg whispered. Dirac looked at him. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The thought was horrible - grotesque even, but he realised that he wanted to kiss Heisenberg, He was beautiful. And he was too tired, too groggy to say anything but the truth.
“Werner I-I’m sorry. The events of this evening have made me realise that I- I want to be close with you. Like- I would like to be sweet on you. I wish I didn’t feel this way. Please let me know if you would like me to sleep on the floor,” Paul said, through thick tears. Heisenberg opened his mouth in surprise. As literal as he was, Heisenberg never expected Paul to be this blunt but then again, the signs were almost always there. Perhaps, for once, Heisenberg was the oblivious one. He kissed Paul’s cheek gently. It was coated in tears. But that kiss made Paul stop shuddering for a second and look up at Heisenberg in confusion.
“I would be,” Heisenberg began, kissing him again
“Very happy with you,” He continued, stroking Dirac’s wet cheek.
Paul couldn't quite believe it. Heisenberg, of all people, wanted to kiss him. He probably had all the ladies in the world with even an inkling of what was good for them kissing the ground that he walked on. Why on earth would Werner choose to kiss him?
“You are so very lovely. So very beautiful,” Heisenberg started, lovingly brushing a hand through his hair.
“But also ever so tired. Let’s get some rest, let’s talk about this more tomorrow,”
Dirac nodded, through tears. He went along with Heisenberg's words as if it were a dream. It probably was. Werner reached his arm out to Paul.
“Fall asleep with me?” He asked.
Paul slowly rested his head on Heisenberg’s arm. Werner used his other hand to stroke Paul’s hair. He was kissed again, gently, softly, slowly.
Paul’s eyes began to close as he relaxed into Werner’s touch. He felt total, utter peace. His anxiety from earlier in the day melted away. He was so lucky. He hoped Werner knew how much he was loved. He would tell him more in the morning, he supposed.
Werner’s hand stopped stroking Paul’s hair, instead opting to wrap around his chest. Unlike the constricting anxiety he had felt earlier, this wasn’t compressing. This was wonderful. He felt so safe. More than ever. Maybe the bed was uncomfortable and the mattress was lumpy. But he had never felt a safer touch or a more tender love. He had felt more love in ten minutes than he had for the rest of his life. He hoped, as he felt sleep take him, that this would last forever. And perhaps, if Heisenberg was as happy as he was with this arrangement then it would.